Seduction Wears Sapphires

by Renee Bernard

  Well, there’s a point of logic I should have anticipated. . . . Oh, well. I’m already in up to my eyebrows, so why complain about the temperature of the water?

  Ashe let out a long, slow breath. “You’re right and I have no intention of backing out. I just—I have never heard of a man with a chaperone, so you’ll have to give me a moment to accept the notion.”

  His grandfather nodded and moved over to the bellpull by the fireplace to give it a firm tug. Within seconds, the butler materialized in the doorway.

  “Yes, sir,” Mr. Frasier said with a curt nod.

  “Bring in Townsend, Frasier.” He walked back to Ashe, his hands behind his back. “Try to be polite when you meet your chaperone, my boy.”

  Ashe felt a twinge of confusion. Why wouldn’t I be polite to the chap? Hell, if he thinks we’re the best of friends, I may actually get to take a deep breath without a dispatch flying back here and setting off cries of alarm. “I am always polite to your friends.”

  His grandfather said nothing but gave him an arched look full of skepticism. Within seconds, the library doors opened again, and Ashe turned to see what flavor of wind-bag his chaperone would be.

  A petite woman in a pale gray gabardine dress that was several seasons out of fashion came toward them, and Ashe’s first impression was that his grandfather’s new housekeeper was a good bit younger than he’d have expected. But as she drew closer, a new and more startling idea occurred to him.

  He wouldn’t! She cannot possibly be—

  “Allow me to introduce you to your chaperone and companion for the next two months. This is Miss Caroline Townsend. A relation to my very best friend and American business partner, Mr. Matthew Townsend, now sadly passed away. I have invited her here to attend this very serious and delicate matter, and after a week in her company, I am convinced that she is entirely suited to the task at hand.”

  “This is preposterous!” Ashe turned to his grandfather, rudely ignoring her and cutting her out of the exchange. “I might have managed to accept this if you’d sailed in some granite-faced old dowager, but you cannot possibly think that a—how in God’s name were you thinking that this might work?”

  “It will work because a young woman gives you the perfect excuse! It will work because you will present her as a family friend and you will take the role of guardian! It will work because, with her at your side, you may actually get admittance into respectable houses and decent company! It will work because no one would suspect the truth!” The years dropped off his face as he spoke, and Ashe had to remind himself not to take a step backward as the old intimidation began to work its magic. “It will work because I’m telling you to make it work!”

  For long seconds, they faced each other, until at last, Ashe was forced to blink. He reluctantly stepped back and barely spared a quick glance back at the woman before closing his eyes in frustration. A plain, drab little pony of a thing, but the old man’s probably guessed correctly. If I’m to have a dreary winter social Season, she’ll provide the perfect dreary excuse. Damn!

  “My grandson will apologize for his rudeness,” the elder Blackwell said, his voice full of warning. “And I, too, Miss Townsend, for not preparing him and raising him properly to mind his manners in the presence of a lady.”

  “Not at all,” she spoke, and the strong silk of her voice and strange flat American accent caught Ashe’s attention immediately. “Your grandson is a grown man and old enough to do and say what he pleases. And if it pleases him to be rude and boorish, then that’s no reflection on you, Mr. Blackwell. You’ve been nothing but kind, sir.”

  Rude and boorish? Ashe clenched his jaw in frustration but managed to growl out his words. “I apologize, Miss Townsend. But as you’ve pointed out, I’m a grown man, and hardly in need of a chaperone, despite what my grandfather believes.”

  She tilted her head to one side, a small bird openly unafraid. “What you’re in need of, sir, is not for me to say for fear of seeming equally rude, but I’ve promised your grandfather I’d do what I could to assist you, so we’ll just have to make the best of it, won’t we?”

  Ashe forced himself not to sputter in astonishment at the woman’s cheekiness. She’d openly insulted him and then stood there as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. He looked at her more closely, his first impression of a gray dove giving way only slightly. Her brown eyes were large and framed with impossibly long lashes that gave her an inquisitive countenance but not an owlish one. Her gaze was far too direct for an English woman of breeding, but the intelligence there made it difficult to look away. Her features were balanced and pleasing, but her color was far too high for the current fashion. Ladies were encouraged to look as porcelainlike as possible, hinting at a lofty station that allowed them to shun the sun and all excesses that might put a permanent stain on their faces. Instead of dainty curls and a lace headdress, her dark blonde hair was pulled back with a simple fall of waves down her back without a single ornament.

  She was plain but for those mesmerizing eyes. . . . But the Ton will tear her to pieces—an American! With the manners of a rough and tumble Colonial, no doubt, to match that saucy tongue of hers!

  His grandfather laughed, and the surprising sound of it arrested the dark vein of his thoughts. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted for a few moments.”

  “I hardly think that’s necess—” Ashe started to protest.

  “Nonsense! You’ll talk and make amends to the lady.” He turned to take Miss Townsend’s hand. “I will see you both for a cordial dinner and then you may both take your leave in the morning in my carriage. Ashe will take you into Town and see you settled at his home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Blackwell.”

  He left without another glance at his grandson, and Ashe let out a long sigh before attempting another start with his “chaperone.” “I am genuinely sorry, Miss Townsend, for my behavior. But I am also sorry that you seem to have been thrown to the wolves without your knowledge. I’m having trouble understanding why my grandfather thought to put you in such an untenable position, but as you seem to grasp, I have little say in the matter.”

  “Are you the wolf in question?”

  He shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “Then I fail to see the difficulty, Mr. Blackwell.”

  His brow furrowed, unsure of how realistic a portrait to paint for her. After all, if she refused to proceed with the plan, he could hardly be blamed. But if she went into it without any idea of the obstacles ahead, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself. “Are you well versed in the etiquette of London society, Miss Townsend?”

  Ashe watched a flash of fiery temper alight in her eyes and knew the answer before she supplied it.

  “Good manners are common sense, Mr. Blackwell, and I’m sure I’ll pick up on things quickly enough. We are not entirely without the social niceties in Boston.”

  “No, I didn’t imagine you all in mud-covered huts, Miss Townsend.”

  “Yet you seem to look at me as if I’m wearing animal hides, Mr. Blackwell.”

  “Now there’s a wicked picture,” he said, unable to keep from smiling at the thought of the little terrier of a woman in front of him wearing nothing but a few furs. He went over to the side table. “Port, Miss Townsend?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Why am I not surprised? He smiled and turned back to lift his glass in a mock toast. “What kind of woman agrees to chaperone a rogue such as myself? What in the world would appeal to you to come so far for such a ridiculous task?”

  Caroline Townsend fought the urge to throw something at his smug face and did her best to compose a reasonable answer. He was a rogue, without question, and while he was far more handsome and imposing than she’d expected, he was also more annoying and ill-mannered. So much for the superiority of an English gentleman!

  She stepped forward, tipping her head back to look up into his face with what she hoped was her sternest and most unforgiving expression. It had previou
sly brought more than one pupil to tears, and while she didn’t expect the pompous wall of a man to crumble, Caroline was determined not to give any ground. “I see nothing ridiculous in helping my grandfather’s dearest friend.”

  “Your grandfather’s dearest friend may not have considered all the risks when he asked you for this favor.”

  “You repeatedly speak of risk and I can’t help but think you’re trying to frighten me away, Mr. Blackwell.” Her chin lifted a defiant inch, and Ashe had a small glimpse of just how immovable Miss Caroline Townsend could be when pressed. “And since you are a self-confessed rogue, I don’t believe I need to defend or explain anything to you. Your grandfather said you couldn’t be trusted not to disgrace him, and while I can only imagine what you’ve done to earn his censure, I don’t care. My life and reasons for being here are my own.”

  It galled him a little that his grandfather would have said such a thing to an outsider, but then his chaperone would undoubtedly have to know the worst to understand her strange employment.

  “As are mine! I have agreed to my grandfather’s request, but know this, Miss Townsend—I won’t waste any more time warning you away from your noble quest to play my moral guardian. And you can trust me when I tell you this: Since you’re so determined to have your way, I’ll not interfere. I don’t need you to keep me from disgrace. Rogue or no, I’m capable of holding my own without some drab little tight-lipped American nipping at my heels. Frankly, I would rather haul a tiger around on a bridle than cart you through a Season.”

  Hands fisted at her hips, she faced him squarely. “I’m glad we have an understanding then, Mr. Blackwell. Especially since I am the one with the unhappy task of holding your bridle, which from here makes you look less and less like a tiger and more and more like an ass!”

  She turned on her heels, her spine ramrod straight, and crisply left the room. The sound of the library door shutting in a most unladylike manner behind her made his jaw drop open in astonishment.

  Women blushed and fluttered at the sight of him and generally yielded to his every whim, he reminded himself. Hell, and that’s the ones I don’t pay! Damned if my grandfather hasn’t found the one woman on this planet I believe I can genuinely confess to loathing at first sight—and who apparently shares the sentiment when it comes to me!

  Ashe’s eyes narrowed as he considered his petite opponent in the upcoming game. The stakes were too high to underestimate her. Whatever his grandfather had promised her, the sooner he could find it out and match the offer, the better. Not to break his word, but to eliminate at least one miserable element from the Season ahead.

  Though he had a sinking feeling the petite terrier was not going to be amenable to a bribe. His grandfather’s business ventures had been very successful, and he’d heard him mention Townsend’s phenomenal success across the Atlantic. The little chit had no doubt inherited enough to make her impervious to any offer he might make.

  If she’s incorruptible, then I’m trapped unless I can find another way. But no matter what, I’m not going to be outdone by an upstart American and forfeit my pride and abandon my family’s honor into Yardley’s sweaty hands. If I have to cart the chit around, I will—but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t regret every minute that she thought to hold the whip hand with me.

  He lifted his glass in a quiet salute to the closed library door. “You’ll wish you’d stayed home, Miss Townsend, for this is one favor you’re going to beg me to release you from before the month is out.”

  “Well! I cannot remember a more delightful dinner!” The elder Blackwell leaned back against his elaborately carved chair’s high back. “My compliments to Cook, Frasier.”

  Ashe smiled at the gesture, aware that it was yet another sign of a new, softer temperament from the old monster. Despite all his grumblings, it was clear he was determined to amend his world on all fronts before too long—even with the cook, Mrs. Edgars, whom he’d been infamously battling for years and accusing of trying to make him fat. But Ashe’s amusement faded as he wondered what had inspired the change, hoping his grandfather hadn’t lied about his health.

  You cannot die just yet, beloved monster. You’re all I have left.

  Conversation had been meager at the meal as Ashe struggled to understand how he’d managed to land himself in such a nightmare. It was one thing to be lectured, but another to be tied to a dowdy and mirthless piece of American baggage. Even so . . . it was even harder to see an honorable way out now that he’d given his word.

  “You barely touched your plates, Miss Townsend. Have my grandson’s manners set you off your appetite?”

  Caroline shook her head. “Not at all, Mr. Blackwell.”

  His grandfather beamed. “You must call me Grandfather Walker.”

  Ashe started to choke on his dessert and had to take a quick drink to recover. Grandfather Walker? What the—

  “You’re too kind, Mr. Blackwell . . . I mean, Grandfather Walker.” Miss Townsend looked shy at the honor, and Ashe had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from protesting. The craggy old man had never allowed such familiarities outside the family and was deliberately trying to provoke a comment.

  “Don’t mind my grandson,” the patriarch interjected, giving Ashe a dark look. “He’s worried that we have such a strong alliance, you and I, and that neither one of us seems too impressed with his charms.”

  “It’s the least of my worries, Grandfather.” Ashe set down his glass. “And since Miss Townsend is now ‘family,’ I’m sure it would be inappropriate to consider charming her into doing anything.”

  “You’d have more luck trying to make Frasier blush,” his grandfather growled. “But see that you don’t set out to prove me wrong.”

  “I believe”—Caroline pushed away from the table—“it’s customary to leave you to smoke after dinner, and quite frankly, I would like to finish packing for the journey tomorrow. So, if you gentlemen will excuse me.”

  They both stood as she did, and his grandfather was quick to offer his blessing. “Enjoy a good night’s sleep, then, and thank you again for your service to me.”

  “Good night . . . to you both.” She nodded, her cheeks flushing as she left the room.

  As the door closed behind her, the men reseated themselves, and Ashe let out a long sigh. “I don’t suppose you’d reconsider, even out of mercy for the poor girl?”

  “Why? Are you going to do away with her between here and London?”

  “London will do away with her, cruelly enough, and you know it. She didn’t even change out of that ghastly dress for dinner, and her manners . . .”

  “Her manners are suitable enough for my house,” his grandfather countered. “London does not hold the high ground for anything but foolishness from what I can see.”

  Ashe did his best not to pull a face. His grandfather’s opinions of the Ton and London society grew less approving with each passing year. He had a countryman’s sense of superiority over Town dwellers and made no secret of it. “Foolish or not, they may not—”

  “She has no interest in social climbing, and from all that I know of her, Caroline Townsend can hold her own.”

  “She’ll have to. I’m not holding her hand while she—”

  “She is in your keeping, Ashe, and you’ll keep her out of harm’s way! I like her,” the elder Blackwell stated with finality that ended debate. “She speaks her mind without hesitation, and speaks well at that! She’s fearless and doesn’t seem to have a propensity for female flights of fancy or silly games. Since her arrival, she’s inquired to the gardener directly about the proper names of every plant in my garden and has made more use of my library than any soul I can recollect. She remembers the names of every servant in the house and cannot sing.” He smiled at the last as if pronouncing a great discovery. “A woman who cannot embroider or play the pianoforte but can quote Dante and Socrates—imagine that!”

  “All of London will swoon at her feet,” he intoned sarcastically.

  “Min
d your manners!” He stood up, and Ashe dutifully rose as well. “I could tell from those eternal silences at dinner that you’d defied me and made no apologies to Miss Townsend. In fact, I would better surmise you somehow made things worse.”

  “As you pointed out, my charms seem to have no effect on Miss Townsend, Grandfather.”

  “Good! It’s just as I anticipated, and if you’re foolish enough to exacerbate things with the woman who holds your future in her hands . . . well, then this should be exactly the experience I was hoping you’d have!” He turned, and without looking back said, “Good night, Ashe. I won’t see you off in the morning, so I’ll wish you a pleasant journey. Good luck.”

  The door was closed behind him and Ashe was completely alone before he could respond that he wouldn’t be the one who would need luck. Miss Caroline Townsend will!

  Caroline made her way to her room with even steps, hating the whip of humiliation that cracked through her with each footfall. She’d expected to meet an oversized spoiled brat, even from the veiled polite descriptions she’d received from Mr. Blackwell, but this?

  Drab little tight-lipped American? She’d let her temper get the best of her, but Ashe Blackwell’s words had struck back with equal force.

  Except it shouldn’t have stung like that. . . .

  It wasn’t as if she expected men to look at her twice, or ever invited them to, so being dismissed by him should have come as no surprise. She’d never thought of herself as anything but plain. But despite what the elder Mr. Blackwell had said about her immunity to Ashe’s formidable charms—Caroline knew that it wasn’t entirely true. Instead of a caricature of a pasty-faced English dandy with soft sausage hands and mincing steps, the younger Blackwell was a tall, broad-shouldered brute with golden brown curls and piercing blue eyes. Ruggedly handsome, there was nothing soft about the man to hint at the life of a wastrel. When his grandfather had indicated that his indolent heir required a watchful eye, she’d secretly wondered before meeting him if the older man weren’t exaggerating the situation from a simple misunderstanding or misperception.